Passing
by Jezunya
Summary: 500 years, six marriages, and almost too many children to count later, Inuyasha once again happens upon the Higurashi shrine. [Oneshot]


I don't own _Inuyasha_ or any of its characters, but the OC's in this are mine! ;)

A/N: This is _sooooo_ a one-shot. Seriously, don't even ask for this to be continued. The answer's no. :P

**"****Passing"  
Random Fiction-ness by Jezunya**

He stopped on the sidewalk, his eyes drawn to the steep stairs rising up to their left and to what he knew lay beyond them. A low ache began just below his heart.

"What is it?" the woman beside him asked, pushing a wind-blown lock of ebony hair back behind her ear.

He looked back at her, the feel of her hand in his keeping him anchored in the here-and-now. He gave her a small half-smile, gesturing with his cap-clad head at the shrine. "This is where it all started."

She frowned for a moment, before her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying. "You mean- This is where she lives?"

He nodded, looking over to smile up the stairs once more. "Yeah," he said, his voice soft, almost reverent. "Today's her fifteenth birthday."

The woman smiled warmly, watching his profile. That was one thing she loved about him – he always remembered the birthdays of his wives, his children, and all of his grandchildren, along with all seven wedding anniversaries.

Her smile faded, becoming serious as she watched an old pain creep into his eyes. "She was special, wasn't she?"

He stopped and looked over at her, and she wasn't at all surprised to see his amber eyes shining a little. He shook his head a little and shrugged, a watery smile coming on to his face. "It was so long ago..."

"But you never forget your first love," she countered, laughing at how he tried to brush it off.

His face stilled, his eyes becoming distant. The remembering she was used to, but the darkness that appeared was something new. "No," he said slowly, looking down at their shoes on the pavement. "No, she wasn't the first woman I ever loved. But she was the first who ever loved me."

She watched him, feeling oddly cold. "You don't talk about her, not like you talk about the others..." And it was true – he loved regaling the family with tales of his previous wives, and she never begrudged him for it. The stories were fond memories for that particular woman's children, funny family stories for the children of previous wives, and awe-inspiring legends for the children of subsequent wives.

But this woman, this first wife, he didn't talk about. Her children, the eldest of all his descendents, didn't talk about their mother either, except amongst themselves. There was a strange quietness about the whole subject, and if the younger children's actions were any clue, it had been that way for several hundred years.

"I guess I don't," he said, sighing and looking back up the stairs. "I was so young when we met, and still very young when we married. I thought- I thought we would go on like that forever, but she was mortal and I couldn't escape that fact no matter how I tried." His hand squeezed hers tight, as if she were the only thing keeping him from returning to the dark days five hundred years ago. "She... she changed me, unlike anyone ever had." He looked at her, a smile quirking one side of his mouth. "Quite frankly, she gave me back my soul." He looked away again, clearly uncomfortable speaking on the topic but pressing on nonetheless.

"We were married for 63 years before she died. She was 84. She gave me five children, and lived to see 13 grandchildren born. Delivered half of them herself," he said, giving her a proud smile that she couldn't help returning.

But then he dropped her gaze, and the old pain was back in his eyes. "When... when she died, my entire world fell apart. I didn't talk to anyone, I wouldn't see any of my children. After several months, Shippou finally came and knocked some sense into my head."

She smiled and shook her head. Shippou was an old friend of the family, and knowing him he'd probably _literally_ knocked the sense into him.

"What he said to me that day has always stuck with me, even after all these years. After telling me to get off my butt and stop moping around, he said, 'She may not be here in a living body anymore, but she's not _gone!'_ I'd never thought about that before. That just because she wasn't trapped in the mortal life with the rest of us didn't mean that she didn't exist anymore, or that she'd abandoned me." He couldn't help smiling, though there were once again tears forming in his eyes. He didn't think he could ever thank Shippou enough for what he'd done that day so long ago. It had allowed him to go on with life, to see that he still had a family that loved him. That one little bit of advice had carried him through the deaths of the next five wives, and even through some of his children's and grandchildren's deaths, although those had been almost unbearable.

He smiled over at his wife, coming out of his thoughts. "Eight years later, I met Akashi."

She returned his smile, knowing where the story went from there. Akashi had been a beautiful noblewoman from Edo, with more spice than sugar in her personality, but that had suited him just fine. She had blessed him with three children, two of them daughters, but had then died of smallpox when she was only 37. After her was San, a peasant girl turned geisha turned assassin. They had had no children together, but San had lived to a ripe old age and 'could still kick his butt,' as her husband put it, even into her sixties.

Next came Galina, a petite blonde Englishwoman he had met when he was out exploring the world outside of Japan, and then Ellana, a quiet and shy Hispanic beauty who had been living in Japan while her father was a diplomat there. Last but not least was Sarah, a happy, bold woman from the deep south of Texas, in America. She had died 47 years ago, and they were now nearing the thirtieth year in their marriage.

"Did you want to go see her?" she asked suddenly, studying his face when he had turned to look back up the stairs again.

He blinked and looked back at her, then down at his watch. "Nah, her school should have started an hour ago. She's down the rabbit hole and out of our reach by now," he said, grinning and relinquishing her hand in favor of wrapping his arm around her shoulders. _In fact, she's probably at the Go Shinboku right now..._ he mused, and couldn't help smiling again. "The things she's going to get into... Like I said, this is where it all starts," he said fondly, shaking his head. He glanced over at his wife, smiling almost hesitantly at her. "I could tell you, if you want..."

She looked at him for a moment, and then up the shrine stairs. This was the woman who had healed a broken heart and brought this wonderful man that she loved so much back into the world. Looking back into his eyes, she smiled earnestly. "I'd like that."

He smiled warmly at her, and they set off down the sidewalk again as he began his tale.

Rumiko rested her head on his shoulder as they walked, but couldn't help one last look back at the shrine. She smiled warmly, her eyes shining.

_Thank you, where ever you are. Thank you for everything you did for this man, and for all of us who came to love him._

She looked up at the sky, listening as her husband talked.

_It may not be in this life,_ she thought, _but someday, I will see you, and I will thank you in person._

She smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist, eliciting a grin from him as he continued.

_Until then, all I have is this silent prayer._

_Thank you, Kagome Higurashi, thank you._

8-888-8

Review please!


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